The next night Vince lay restless in bed, above the covers. His window was the first to the right of the front door. His room was small-ish, with a bed across the room from the window. It was a little past midnight. Crickets played a symphony to the backdrop of the sounds of the nightlife of a suburban area. Still no sign of Cassandra. He had put a light in the window, just so she would be sure to not miss it. Maybe she wouldn't come? Did she not like him? By what happened last night, he'd say she did, but you can never know for...
A rattling at the window brought Vince out of his thoughts. He rolled out of bed and walked on silent feet to the window, and peeked through the curtains. Throwing them back, he lifted up the recently-oiled window. A small rasping sound was the only evidence: it would be impossible to hear outside of the room unless you were listening for it.
A slim Cassandra slipped in through the window, which Vince closed behind her. She jumped into his arms and hugged him, which sent him staggering back a couple of steps. While she wasn't strong enough to push him around, he hadn't been expecting it. Tears leaked from her eyes, as usual. But this time it was... different.
"Vince... he said... he said he knew someone else had been with me... and..."
Vince noticed that she flinched as he ran his hands up and down her back, and he asked her to take her shirt off. She hesitantly complied. He turned her around, and gaped at her back. Not only was it a mess of old and new scars, but several open wounds marred what should have been flawless and beautiful skin. His eyes saw red as he thought a few things he'd like to do to her father...
But first, he took her to his bed and sat there, her in his lap, as he stroked her hair and tried to hum something to soothe her. He would care for her if it was the last thing he did.
The next day, Vince was getting ready for school, and walked down the street to wait at the bus stop. An oddity to draw any eye... a line of police tape, behind which police cars stood. In front of Cassandra's house.
Vince ran over, and stopped short of the police tape. Police officers wheeled two stretchers out. Vince asked the closest one what happened, but he brushed him off, told him to get behind the line, which he already was. Vince was out of his mind. Had her dad finally flipped, taking both of them out?
One of the police officers walked over and asked if his name was Vince Piccio. When he nodded, he took him across the line and inside the house.
"Son, we're looking at a murder/suicide, with signs of extensive abuse. What we know is that Cassandra must've snapped, and blew her mother's head off..." the man was interrupted by Vince's exclamation.
"Mother? She told me it was her father!"
"So you knew about this?" he asked, looking surprised.
"Yeah... I was helping her deal with it..." Vince was on the edge of tears.
"You should've told someone. This isn't something you keep secret!"
Vince sniffled. "I know, but... she made me feel good. Special. I think I loved her. I should've told..."
"She left a note, addressed to you." The policeman handed over a slip of paper. Vince took it in shaking hands, and read it.
Dear Vince Piccio,
Thanks for being a good friend. I'm sure by now you know a tear marred the next couple of words, and he skipped over it. my mother, not my dad. I lied because I was embarrassed. I hope you can forgive me for what I must do, and go on with your life. I'll see you in the afterlife, and we can all laugh about this.
Love, Cassandra
The man escorted Vince out of the crime scene, and he went home instead of to school. All the love he had put into her, whether he had realized it or not, had just died with her. Apparently the abuse had been worse than he could have imagined... worse than he could have fixed. Vince went to his room and cried until his eyes were red and no more tears were left in him.
Then he tried to hang himself, but failed. And he lived to die another day...
((This new arch of story is based on in game events.))
Vince helped Renato learn how to control his ship and make it move through the force of will; how to telepathically communicate with the living and how to take advantage of his condition when interacting with the physical world.
“There’s one final lesson you need to learn.” Vince thought to Renato. “But one that you’ll have to figure out by yourself. I cannot help.”
Both ghosts were conversing in open space, inside La Nube Siniestra. Their two Sabres resting in the same fashion as the other tomb fighters. Vince turned around and phased through his own ship, assuming command of it. “We will see each other again when you understand, Renato,” he thought. Vincenzo’s Sabre assumed the blueish glow and started moving. “Until then, you’re on your own.”
Renato lingered puzzled by Vince’s words. He couldn’t make anything of it. Vince hadn’t given any suggestions of anything they should worry about before. Still, his last words were grimmer than anything he had ever said.
Renato returned and phased through his Sabre. He didn’t know what to do.
The first few weeks after Vince woke him up from his nightmare and helped him learn what he was, Renato felt awkward about everything, about being. With time understanding didnt come, but acceptance did. He felt comfortable with his ship as he and Vince went on about preying on the minor enemies of his bretheren. Renato got accustomed to roam throughout Sirius with Vince, but he would always return to Alpha. He would fly around Malta for some time and then get back to La Nube Siniestra. There, he would place his ship on its original spot, around the jump hole to Omicron 90, alongside the other tomb fighters.
Being in the cloud didnt really soothe him, but being near Malta did. If there was still a body to tire, one could say he went there to sleep; which wasnt far from the truth, as his mentality tired from the strong emotions he felt. Renato went there to lose himself to his feelings much in the same fashion it ocurred to him right after he died; only now he could regain consciousness of himself. Around Malta he felt nurtured somehow. Amongst his brothers he could lay the burden of his hatred.
Renato woke up to notice the tense chatter over the Maltese frequencies. He overheard the exchange of coded messages between the Planets mission control and what seemed to be a detached wing of attack ships. He knew the terminology and didnt take long to figure his brothers were raiding Gamma. His eyes turned vivid red. Even together, his and Vinces Sabres wouldn't stand much chance against Cretes defenses, but flying alongside a full strike force, he would make a difference.
Renato willed the ship to move and put it towards the Corsair system. As he progressed, his vision blurred to everything but the path to reach Gamma, he perceived time passing faster. On his way he recalled his last fight against the Corsairs - his last fight living - and his rage increased.
He reached Gamma and as he entered the system he immediately contacted multiple Outcast ships. They were leaving. What is one of the one hundred and first doing all the way out here? one of the Outcast pilots asked in a harsh tone. What is it that you want? From his authoritarian tone, he was probably the leader of the group.
Blinded by fury, Renato never thought of how to approach his brothers. He had pictured himself arriving in the heat of a fierce battle and crushing down his enemies. Like an avenging angel, he would be the personification of swift vengeance; untouchable and unquestionable. He hadnt expected to face them like that and was confused. He couldnt muster a clear thought to communicate it through telephaty.
*Static*
The first returning ships made little case of him and took the jump hole to Omicron Theta. He followed. The strike group leader came right after him.
As they cleared the jump hole and proceeded through the Zoner system, the pilot questioned him again, What do you think youre doing here?
I... Renato couldnt acquire enough strength of will to complete his sentence. He felt mixed feelings of rage, fear, loneliness and shame. ... brothers...
What? The flight leader cut and scolded him.
Something is wrong with this ship. Another pilot stated.
Renato couldnt bear his feelings around the rest of them and as the group moved to the Omicron Eta jump hole, he veered away and proceeded towards the Sigmas.
Where are you going?
*Static*
He took the long way around back to the Siniestre; to escape his feelings, to sleep.
Renato woke up and regained conscience of himself. He remembered the encounter he had had with his compatriots and got angry and sad. Whatever he was now, it made him feel uneasy and self-conscious around the ones he had grown to respect and call brothers. He was ashamed of his condition and suffered from their reserved stance and coldness towards him. The furnace that once was the locket Annabela had left him had waned in heat and was now merely a memento. He longed for the heat of love from his own again. It hurt him to stay alone hidden in the shadows. He couldnt do it anymore.
The hull of his ship, pale against the greenish smoke that was the Siniestre gained flames of blue. He took control and veered back to Malta. He aproached the planet to meet a large number of fighters gathered in orbit. A whole wing was stationed there. He felt uncomfortable and hesitated for a bit, but shook it. He took a deep breath. Whatever that was, his brothers heard it.
What the hell was that? One of the pilots asked puzzled.
Renato pressed on. The presence of his ship became clear in everyones instruments. The presence of his persona became clear in everyones minds. For weeks there had been rumors about two ghosts that were haunting Alpha. The people who claimed to have met them and the ones who believed them speculated about who those ghosts had been in life. The fact that Renato's tomb fighter had been seen flying didn't stay secret for long, specially considering the recency of his demise.
That cant be. Ive heard about it, but I didnt believe it," a second pilot said almost to himself. "Renato... Is that you? He asked.
Brothers... The ghost projected the thought with clarity to them. His resolve was fueled by the anger he felt of his own weakness from before.
Get out of my head! The leader of the squadron, the same from the other day, demanded.
We thought you were dead, Renato," the second pilot interrupted in a conciliatory tone. "How can this be? He asked.
I - am - dead, brother. The ghost retracted from the emotional link and all felt cold for a moment. Mani betrayed us.
Renato told the story of how Mani had set him up. He made it clear, through the feelings he projected, the dimension of his hatred.
That's enough, the leader said, Lets kill them! Lets finish this traitor and get this over with.
No... another pilot hesitated.
No? What do you mean, 'no'?" The leader asked. "What the hell is wrong with you?
All this hatred I cannot go along with this. This isnt right, the pilot replied.
An ion storm hit Alpha right after those words were said. They resounded inside of Renatos mind with the clarity of a bells toll. Renato understood what it was that Vince hadnt told him before and why he hadnt done so. Vince wouldn't be able to transmit to him the comprehension he had just acquired. Whatever curse they carried that had entrapped them between life and afterlife was theirs alone. There was no sharing it and they had no right exposing their beloved to it.
Renato saw his brothers ships floating adrift hindered by the ion storm. He could move his. He left.
Meanwhile, Vince Piccio had left Outcast space, having learned the lesson that Renato had yet to learn: that they no longer belonged amongst the living, or to any group. Their insurmountable differences were just too great. Instead of continuing to haunt Outcast space, the people he held some loyalty to from his previous life, he decided to leave and vent some frustration on other people, people that meant nothing to him.
He streaked through space, down through Tau 37, where the miners cringed, and even those that played at being soldiers gave him a wide berth as his ghost ship shrieked through space. Those few that were fool enough to stop and gawk died. They more than died. The shell that was their ship was destroyed by the Krakens, and their escape pods were tractored in by a ghostly blue beam that was emitted by no technology made by man.
There they frantically clawed at the doors of their escape pods when they refused to open. A blue mist flooded the chamber, but it had no feeling of dampness, nor cold or heat. Then a ripping started. Not physical, but a dividing of soul and body, the sort of thing that youd think impossible. Vince didnt know how he did it, but he liked it. They screamed until they had no breath, then their soul screamed, a delightful sound of pain laced with pure, unadulterated terror.
Somehow he didnt know, he stored the soul in his ship, where it kept screaming. It sounded like soothing music now, and Vince knew he could do more to it, he just didnt know how. He put it on the back burner, as something to try later.
Flying down through Tau 23, to Tau 29, and there he saw Freeport Six. If he had had hands, he would have rubbed them together excitedly. They would let him land without comment. The fools. He landed as a normal ship would, though he didnt have to. His ship set down on the pad, and a few mechanics ran forward, only to slow down until they stopped, staring uncertainly at the rusted out ship that was glowing blue. For dramatic effect, he opened the canopy to the cockpit, and floated out, holding a human form.
Stark terror painted the Zoners faces, as they ran for cover. Picking one, a woman, he stretched out his hand and made a fist. She stopped uncertainly, and slowly started floating backwards. If he had had a mouth, he would have smiled. The terror painted her face with such beautiful lines. The others crouched behind crates, peering over the edges and too skittish to try to help their poor comrade. She floated into the ship, and the canopy slowly slid closed.
Screams flogged them as the blue light coming from the cockpit came in sheet-lightning flashes.
The hatch to the Sabre opened ever so slowly. What they expected a broken, bloody corpse was not at all what came out. The unmarked corpse of the woman that had gone in rolled down the ramp and hit the ground with a thud. After it came the ghost, and after him came something else entirely. It appeared, at first glance, to be exactly as the first ghost a blue mist that had the shape of a human. However, closer inspection showed that it was all together a different form of entity.
While it was a blue mist, it flickered, small lightning bolts of white lacing through the blue. It seemed uncertain, and slowly, the flickering gained intensity, until a small, audible scream could be heard. The blue mist dispersed throughout the room. The first ghost, the original one, seemed puzzled at best. The Zoners seemed terrified. Shaking his head, the blue mist reboarded the Sabre and it launched.
He set a course for where he knew Renato would go when he had learned his final lesson.
The ghost Sabre streaked across Tau-23 with no noticeable bearing. Renato paid little attention to the matter. Captured by his thoughts, he willed the craft to move forward, veering here and there whenever a capricious whim crossed his mind. The ghost was experimenting soberness as he hadnt ever since he died.
Aspects from his past existence had meant enough then to serve as basis for his goals. Family, friends and honor; those held diminishing meanings for him now. The allegiances he kept were but cultural reflexes he had acquired in his past life. Even the basic motivations didnt apply. He had no body to sustain, no mortality to fear. Their purpose; if they had been given any by the intent which ensnared them into those apparitions, or if they would find one of their own; should have nothing to do with their pasts as living.
When he left Alpha, Renato had decided that no matter how clear the memories he kept and how proper the mimic he could muster of his old self, there were no means through which he would reclaim his old life. The men he called his brothers respected the memory of his deeds and of the man he was before, as an equal. To them, the ghostly form he was represented the manifestation of a soul tormented by the outrage of betrayal. One that should be helped wane and disappear as it was proper to the dead. As much as they wouldnt deny him help in easing his pain, they wanted him gone. His presence, not only a reminder of the Corsair that double-crossed them all, was a mockery and defiance to their understanding of life.
Renato had expected feeling a profound sadness upon giving up his old life. It didnt happen that way. As he flew away from Alpha, an enhanced sense of clarity struck him. Everything around him came in as a more vivid experience. His own body, should he call it as such, struck him as something renewed and stronger in a sense he wasnt yet ready to understand.
Poor Outcast, all alone. This must be our lucky day, gentlemen. the Bounty Hunter emphasized his speech with sarcasm while the radio was flooded with laughter from other pilots.
Renato looked around to find himself surrounded by four Hammerhead fighters. Captured by his thoughts, he never noticed them approaching. He was in open space, not close to any of the patrol paths, which meant they followed him there. He cursed himself for his lack of attention, wasnt it for their cockiness, they could have had destroyed his ship before he could react.
Hey, Outcast! Try not to soil your pants in there, another burst of laughter issued, "Its a long travel to Deshima, you know?"
The ghost was cornered. The four ships onto him in a diamond formation. A living pilot would probably have been downed by then. A nervous jitter over the controls, a foolish attempt to shake off the ships But for a second the Sabre continued placid in its original course. Renato understood. He sensed them. These weren't military pilots. They would eventually take the initiative and fire, but they were waiting for a reaction they could foil. It was more enjoyable that way.
The mental link with the ships controls felt natural. Better than an extension of the physical body he didnt have, the ship felt like part of his will. He felt like crouching an inch, quietly warming up thrusters; tensing muscles, readying crab and boom jets. His fighter didnt alter course, but the aura of it was completely different. He was ready.
*slow breathing*
What the The Bounty Hunter never finished the sentence.
Startled by the mental projection, the Bounty Hunters didn't notice the sudden turnaround of the Sabre which fired its weapons as soon as it completed the reverse.
The Inferno cannon projectile made off with the Bounty Hunters shields having with a missile in its wake. The Hammerhead never stood a chance against the combination and the shock from its thunderous explosion rocked the remaining ships while the bright flash of the H-Fuel burn covered the Sabres altered vector. Renato was out of the cobweb.
The remaining pilots had to shake off their surprise and go evasive as a second wavering ship was almost as fast crippled and destroyed by the Outcast. Renato turned around and leveled his crosshairs over the third target.
*Thump, thump Thump, thump Thump, thump*
A fast paced, muffled sound, so loud it disoriented the ghost for a second; enough to make him lose his target. It got Renato puzzled for a moment, but he dismissed it.
The Sabre tracked the Bounty Hunter fighter again and trained his weapons back on the ship. Again, the Inferno made way for his other weapons to break the targets hull. As the Hammerhead's engines flickered and failed, the ship started spiraling in flames to transform into a ball of light and then vanish.
The last ship tried to escape. Renato pressed on and followed, his weapons still charging. He fired to force the escaping ship into evasive so it would lose some ground in it.
*fast heavy breathing*
It came in so suddenly and loud as if inside his head. Had he had ears to hurt they would be deafened. Renato gave up his vision for a moment so he could concentrate on re-establishing his sense of audition. He got a hold of himself and concentrated on his target.
*Thump, thump Thump, thump Thump, thump*
The beating was faster. Renato felt cold and shivered. White arcs of lightning crossing the bluish mist that was his body. The whole thing was uncomfortable and it was getting worse. He maintained pursuit, but took a deep breath and sensed.
A new perception of the ship ahead struck him. Even though it wasnt visual, he could outline the pilot within it. He understood the thumping he felt resounding as the mans racing heartbeat; the deafening roar as his accelerated breathing. If he concentrated enough he could even hear the mans blood gurgling inside his veins. If his undeath was a mockery of life, that sprouting of life was a mockery of his state. It was sickening. It had to cease.
Renato pressed on in pursuit of the craft. He was feverish. His body condensed and dissolved at each spasm. That angered him. He felt poisoned by the life ahead of him and was having problems controlling the ship. Lightning arcs raced across his body provoking terrible cramps. He couldnt bear it any longer.
The ghost phased through his Sabre and leaped towards the Bounty Hunter ship ahead. He landed over its hull and clawed it viciously tearing a good chunk of metal apart. His eyes were vivid red. He made his way to the cockpit and ripped the canopy open. The pilot inside frantically tried to push the apparition away to no avail. His clawing towards the misty form found nothing but open space. Something about the beating of the mans heart disgusted Renato. He phased his hand through the mans chest and reached for it. His heart felt cold and oily. The Bounty Hunter trashed in pain and despair as Renato squeezed the life out of it.
The beating ceased. The wind waned. Renato felt calm and breathed.
The ghost dissolved his hand and withdrew it from the corpses chest. It shifted awkwardly upon the movement. Renato paused to observe the lifeless body in front of him. Whatever strings had kept that carcass animated just moments before werent evident to him. It bothered him to have subdued lifes limitations and still not be able to understand its mechanisms. The retrospect of his odd sickness upon its presence bothered him even further, but there was nothing there to be seen but a vacant shell. His answers werent there.
He went back to his ship and set the course to where he knew Vince would be. He wondered how the Hessians had received his ghost friend.
![[Image: iskariot_4.png]](http://i134.photobucket.com/albums/q97/Zax_Gentoo/iskariot_4.png)
![[Image: outcastsupercopieha6.jpg]](http://img132.imageshack.us/img132/8474/outcastsupercopieha6.jpg)